2.28.2014

Unedited



Adjective: (of material for publication or broadcasting) not edited.

I remember the first time I had an orgasm through intercourse. We were in a cheap motel that rented rooms by the hour. Classy I know, but what do you expect from twenty year olds? We shared a mickey of vodka. I’m not sure I realized what was happening until after it occurred and I felt the most incredible sensation I had ever experienced. I more or less instantly fell in love with him, wanting to keep him forever and ever. (Obviously it did not last.)
Approximately one third of the female population can cum during sex. I truly believe you haven’t experienced great sex until you do. As a result I feel great empathy for the majority of women. I think this is why so many of my fellow ladies feel rather indifferent about the performance. I know, I know, it’s not all about intercourse. There’s foreplay and oral sex and of course a plethora of different ways to get off. But trust me when I say: nothing is as great as that climax during the act of. So if you’re not reaching that high point, I don’t blame you for not always wanting to have sex.

 “Apparently orgasm is the only point where your mind becomes completely empty, you think of nothing for that second. That’s why it’s so compelling, it’s a tiny taste of death. Your mind is void, you have nothing in your head save white light.”
— 
Jeff Buckley


There have been three additional males since that first and an emotional connection was always present. Evidently (I believe) great sex requires that extra tension. Unfortunately I am now left with an everlasting memory of all four partners as the state of euphoria is not something my mind can erase.
Merde.


2.25.2014

Procrastination.




Procrastination.
Noun: the action of delaying or postponing something.

I actually just googled “why does February suck” hoping to find some scientific explanation for my complete laziness this past month; no concrete justification has yet to be established. My motivation is nonexistent and if I was told I could spend the next seventy-two hours doing absolutely nothing, I’d be ecstatic. Rather than rant about all my (insignificant) complaints I will treat you to a selection of favoured quotes which are currently lingering upon my love list on Tumblr.

I give a fuck. I give lots of fucks, actually. I’m a prostitute of feelings.
– Unknown 

 “Stop faking your fucking orgasms. Society already tells young men that they run the fucking universe - if they can’t turn your cunt into a shooting star then for god’s sake, let them know about it.”
– Daisy Lola

“The woman who doesn’t need validation from anyone is the most feared individual on the planet.
– Mohadesa Najumi

“Everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.
– Oscar Wilde

“I wonder how many people don’t get the one they want, but end up with the one they’re supposed to be with.
– Fannie Flagg

“Be committed, not attached. But more importantly, know the difference.
– Kai, Lessons in Life #21


“There is in every one of us, even those who seem to be most moderate, a type of desire that is terrible, wild, and lawless.
– Platro, The Republic

 “A dying friend once told me, ‘I wish I hadn’t spent so many Mondays wishing it were Friday. I also wish I had made better use of those Fridays, for better stories on Monday.”
 – A Wolf’s Thoughts.

“Perfectly able to hold my own hand. But I still can’t kiss my own neck.
– Wye Oak, Civilian

“Maybe this year I will learn to stand my ground against the sound of your name.”
 1, wesley king

I’m effectively getting my shit together and will have some regular content back shortly; optimistically of course...
Merde.



 



2.22.2014

Tardy.



Adjective: delaying or delayed beyond the right or expected time; late.

Not within ten minutes of my conversation with my colleague, discussing who amongst our team might receive Valentine’s flowers, did my phone ring. It was the receptionist notifying me that they had something for me. For me? Yes, she confirmed. In complete shock, with butterflies in my stomach, I took the elevator down the four floors to the reception area at work. On the front desk lay a grand bouquet of palm leaves, birds of paradise and other exotic flowers. I blushed as my mind roared in search of who the sender could be; clearly a reader of this blog.

“Penny Lane is in my heart & on my mind. Your secret admirer.”

I’ve since discovered the identity of the undisclosed sender; though I’d rather you comprise your own imaginative stories than disclose you with the truth. I will, however, let you know that I remain (very) single.
Merde.